No beauty in a sunrise that promises day of pain;
No looking for a rainbow without a trace of rain.
Gift of life is water and from it hope does spring;
When hope has dried and disappeared left with suffering.

Dry to desiccation by the drought that does endure
All my dreams evaporated, to hope I’d grown inured.
Vision distorted by vitreous fluid running dry,
I was parched to apoplectic and wanted just to die.

Gaunt and grizzled outside, inside blood was thick and congealed;
Eyes turned away from heaven fearing what they would reveal.
From milk of human-kindness long ago I had been weaned;
Human replaced by dust of golem with a soul guillotined.

Existing but not living in eternal, hot, dry night;
All my scabs had wounds, was miserable, abject sight.
Mudville post Casey’s defeat? Comparative paradise.
There was zero joy without and within all was jaundiced.

Exsiccation down to ashes that danced in the wind,
I’d given up on everything; just wanted life to end.
Then dew upon white rose petals I happened to touch;
Never has so little moisture to a man meant so much.

Fell down upon my knees and brought my lips down to the rose
My cheek touched its softness and its fragrance graced my nose.
I lapped up all the dew that had collected in the night
In that single moment began restoration of my sight.

Dark shroud that had blinded me commenced to lift away,
Drought of driest August replaced by succulence of May.
The dew that had collected was a harbinger of rain;
Heavens opened up above and washed me clean again.

The drought that was defeat was replaced by light of hope;
Barriers insurmountable felt like now I could cope.
Verdant fields and lush green vistas appeared before my eyes;
Having so long been dormant hope again began to rise.

Moses descended from Mount Sinai altered from when he rose
Cavorted with God Almighty’s how the story goes.
I’ll never be a Moses, but there’s prophet in my loss
And I thank the Lord above for washing away my holocaust.

Earth, my former tormentor, is once again my friend,
Terror of excruciating hotbox has come to an end.
Grokking deep of water, Angel Michael led me from the desert:
I’ve been reconstituted of this there is no controvert.

Gift of life is water and from it hope does spring;
Last item in Pandora’s Box; allows us to endure great suffering.
God’s Covenant’s a rainbow that appears only with rain.
Precious beauty in His sunrise I can once more see again.